Acolyte Tales
by ColdFusion180
Summary: A little education and a bit of madness occurs when the Acolytes discuss a few tall tales.


**Acolyte Tales**

"This is so boring," Remy grumbled as he lounged on the couch in the recreation room. Piotr and Sabertooth sat in armchairs nearby. "I hate having to watch the news for an hour every day."

"Magneto is making us do this so we are more aware of current events," Piotr reminded him. "Specifically to identify possible threats towards mutants. Also we are to watch out for any potential mutant sightings."

"Yeah, like this'll really help him find new recruits," Sabertooth grunted.

"Well at least he could let us do this on the main computer," Remy sighed as he leaned back and yawned. "It has better quality and we can watch more than one channel at the same time on it."

"He forbade us from doing that anymore because we kept playing games on it instead of watching the news," Piotr sighed. "And I was starting to win too."

"Well we can't even watch a movie in here thanks to Pyro's little experiment of trying to improve the electronics with the jumper cables, Windex and portable gas powered generator," Remy complained. "There's nothing on TV worth watching. And the stuff that's on the news lately is crazy. I mean listen to some of this stuff."

"The strange weather phenomenon around Watertown continues to baffle scientists," the newsanchor reported. "Efforts to study the mysterious fog banks have had startling results. Officials have reported that samples were obtained by cutting the thick fog with knives and hand saws. Pictures of the fog samples to follow."

"See what I mean?" Remy rolled his eyes. "'Cutting the thick fog with knives'? Sounds like something from a tall tale."

"Tall tale?" Piotr repeated.

"Yeah, you know," Remy turned towards him. "Stories about legendary figures like John Henry, Joe Magarac, Cap'n Stormalong…"

"I have never heard of those people," Piotr frowned. "And what is a tall tale?"

"Oh brother," Sabertooth sneered.

"A tall tale is a story of a person who did mighty deeds," Remy explained muting the TV. "Tall tales are an important part of American folklore. They were some of my favorite stories as a kid."

"What are they about?" Piotr asked.

"Oh, all kinds of things," Remy thought. "Like Pecos Bill, the rip-snortinest cowboy ever to ride on any side of the Rio Grande. Old Pecos Bill was a whirlwind! He was adopted by coyotes and raised on buffalo milk. Tangled with giant rattlesnakes, squeezed them dry and used them for lassos. He could outtrack a bloodhound, fought with lighting flashes, tamed whistling rivers and rode on cyclones."

"But that is impossible," Piotr protested. "That sounds more like a fairy tale or myth."

"Well yeah," Remy admitted. "Tall tales do contain some exaggeration, but also have a bit of truth in them as well. It's up to each person to decide which parts are which."

"Give me a break," Sabertooth growled. "Tall tales are a load of bull that a bunch of drunken idiots made up over a hundred years ago because they didn't have radios or TV.

"They are not!" Remy snapped. "Tall tales gave people back then a sense of hope, laughter, fellowship and helped shape a common American identity."

"Which is an absolute lie since the Americans stole a lot of ideas from the Canadians," Sabertooth snarled. "Paul Bunyan was originally Canadian until the Americans stole the story and twisted it for their own use."

"Who?" Piotr asked.

"Paul Bunyan was a giant lumberjack," Remy said. "He was the greatest logger of them all. Logged off both North and South Dakota in a single season. He was so big his footprints ended up creating the ten thousands lakes of Minnesota and he could chop trees that took a week to see the top down with a single swing. When he dragged his double-bladed axe it tore a huge chasm in the ground which became the Grand Canyon. And he straightened out crooked rivers with the help of his lifelong friend Babe the Big Blue Ox!"

"Blue Ox?" Piotr stared, slightly confused. "Was it a mutant ox?"

"Don't even **think** about starting that!" Sabertooth growled menacingly.

"No he wasn't," Remy glared at Sabertooth. "Babe was found during the winter when it was so cold even the snow turned blue and geese flew backward. Babe measured forty two axe handles and a plug of chewing tobacco between his horns and could haul logs so fast he'd get 'em to the sawmills before they finished falling. And of course Paul needed a lot of food so he built a giant flapjack griddle so big it had to be greased with bacon tied to men's feet like skates and you couldn't see across it on a foggy day. A flapjack is a kind of thin pancake."

"Ah, a blintz," Piotr nodded in understanding. "That one member of the Brotherhood could probably eat pancakes of that size."

"He could definitely give Paul Bunyan a run for his money," Remy chuckled.

"Paul Bunyan does sound interesting. Is he your favorite?" Piotr asked.

"Nope," Remy grinned. "My all-time favorite is Mike Fink: King of the Keelboatman. Strongest man on the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. He wrestled with alligators and grizzly bears and came out on top. Could tow a steamboat on his back and shoot the shell off an egg. He was one of the first American tall tale legends and King of the River."

"He was also the son of French **Canadians**," Sabertooth mocked. "Yet another example of Canadian influence on so-called American folklore."

"Why don't you go 'influence' yourself into a river," Remy snapped. "and straight over a waterfall! Oh wait, bad idea. Don't want to contribute to pollution and kill all the fish!"

"How about I demonstate how I gut fish using you as an example!" Sabertooth roared.

"Hey, what'cha all doing?" Pyro asked as he entered the room.

"Oh just having a conversation about tall tales," Piotr said.

"Ooo, really! I love tall tales!" Pyro's said excitedly. "Ah, tall tales about the good ol' days back when men were men! Unless they were horses. Back when the land was young and men did big things in a big country. Tales that formed the backbone of the nation's heritage."

"Yes! That's precisely what I've been talking about," Remy praised and nodded his head.

"Yep, stories of legendary names like Crooked Mick and Big Bill," Pyro smiled.

"Exactly, and…huh?" Remy did a double take. "Wait just a minute…"

"And of floods so bad all the fish drowned and weather patterns so crazy that one minute it was so hot chickens laid fried eggs and the next minute it was so cold mirages froze," Pyro went on.

"Stop!" Remy yelled and held up his hands. "What are you talking about? I've never heard of Big Bill or any of this other stuff."

"What?! You've never heard of Big Bill?!" Pyro looked at Remy in shock. "Why Big Bill is famous. The strongest man on the Speewah!

"Speewah?" Piotr repeated. "What is the Speewah?"

"What is the…?!" Pyro looked like he was about to faint in shock. "The Speewah is the largest station in Australia, where everything is huge, from the feats of the men who work there to the animals that live on it. The Speewah is so big that to close the gate you gotta bring a week's worth of tucker with you."

"Station?" Piotr frowned in confusion.

"You know, a ranch or farm where they raise sheep and cattle and horses," Pyro explained.

"Ah," Piotr nodded.

"Yep, on the Speewah jumbucks are as big as freight cars and boomers like bell towers. Also you gotta watch out for mozzies the size of dinner plates and ants as large as pickle barrels," Pyro said proudly.

"Wait, you're not talking about American tall tales?" Remy asked.

"Huh? Oh no, course not. I'm talking about good ol' homegrown Australian tall tales," Pyro said leaning on the back of the couch. "I don't know much about American ones."

"All of these stories seem to be focused on incredible strength or skills," Piotr noted. "Are they all like that?"

"Not all," Remy shrugged. "Tales about Johnny Appleseed aren't about that kind of stuff."

"Johnny who?" Pyro asked.

"Johnny Appleseed was a skinny guy who traveled all across America planting apple trees and starting apple nurseries," Remy explained. "He was the kindest, friendliest, most generous person around."

"In other words, he was a wimp," Sabertooth sneered.

"He was not a wimp!" Remy glared at him. "He only wore a tin pot hat and worn-out old clothes all year round. He went barefoot everywhere he went, even in the winter! Does that sound like a wimp to you?"

"Wow, that's incredible," Pyro blinked. "In fact, a lot of the stuff those blokes did seem so unbelievable that they must have had special abilities or something. Hey, maybe they were all mu…"

"SO HELP ME PYRO, IF THE NEXT WORDS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH SUGGEST THAT ANY OF THEM WERE MUTANTS I WILL **KILL** **YOU** WHERE YOU STAND!" Sabertooth roared.

"Uh, okay," Pyro gulped. "But ya gotta admit that they did some incredible stuff. I bet even mutants couldn't have done some of the things they did."

"Oh brother," Sabertooth sneered. "That's a load of garbage."

"Oh yeah," Pyro snapped. "I bet you couldn't do some of the things Crooked Mick did. Like hauling a train of loaded railroad cars cross-county."

"I could too!" Sabetooth shouted.

"Prove it!" Pyro challenged.

"Fine! I will!" Sabertooth turned and marched out of the room.

"Oh boy," Remy whistled. "This'll be interesting. Wanna go watch him?"

"Sure," Pyro said heading for the door. "I'd also like to hear more about this Appleseed bloke."

"Great. I've got a few things I'd like to try as well," Remy grinned turning off the TV. "Coming Piotr?"

"Why not. The hour is up and there is nothing else to do," Piotr shrugged following them out.

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Magneto muttered as he strode down the hallway. "It's bad enough those lunatics cause chaos when left unsupervised, but when they're around they drive me insane! Well it's time I cracked down on them. Imposed more discipline. They've had it easy so far with only two training sessions a day, but from now on…"

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

CRASH!

"What's going on now?" Magneto reached the entrance of Storage Room Two and looked in.

Piotr stood in his armored state holding a double-bladed ax. Throughout the room huge, thick logs were standing upright like trees, having been somehow driven straight into the floor. Several logs lay sprawled out on the floor, obviously having been chopped down.

"Colossus what are you doing?" Magneto demanded.

"I am trying to see if it is possible to chop a tree down in one swing," Piotr explained turning toward him. "So far I am only able to do so in three swings, but I am getting closer to my goal." He turned to the next upright log and prepared another swing.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

CRASH!

"Why would you…no, forget it!" Magneto backed away and started down the hall again. "Sabertooth! Victor where are you? What's gotten into Colossus and…" he reached the Sphere Hangar and saw Sabertooth at the head of three flatbed railroad cars loaded with military battle tanks. He had his back to the railcars and was trying to pull them across the floor. "What the…?"

"Come on, come on! Move you stupid pieces of junk!" Sabertooth snarled as he strained against the load. "I'm not gonna let some crooked crook beat me at this!"

Magneto did an about face and started back down the hallway again. "I don't even want to know. What is going on here today? Have those maniacs all gone insane?"

"_Oh the Lord is good to me! And so I thank the Lord! For giving me the things I need, the sun and the flame and the fire trees! The Lord is good to me!_" Pyro sang while dancing down the hallway shooting out streams of fire from his pack and forming them into apple trees as he passed by.

"Of course some of them have always been insane," Magneto groaned as he chased after him. "PYRO STOP SETTING THE HALLWAY ON FIRE!"

"_Oh_ _everywhere I go, I go and plant a tree! For when I'm gone the fire trees, will go and spread their fire seeds! The Lord is good to me!_" Pyro skipped along 'planting' more fire apple trees and ignoring Magneto.

"You are gonna be gone and planted six feet under when I get hold of...huh?" Magneto stopped at the closed doors to the Control Room which were bulging outward due to stress from within. "What in the world…?"

CRRRAAACCCKKK!!

The doors burst open and a huge tidal wave of water crashed into the hallway.

WWHHOOOOOOSSSSSSHHHHHH!!

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Magneto screamed as he was knocked off his feet and washed away.

"WAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Remy whooped as he rode on top of the wave on a makeshift keelboat made out of a couch, plastic barrels, some wooden crate panels and a mattress. He had his staff raised high above his head. "I'm a grin-flashing gator! I can steal faster, sneak stealthier, flirt longer and charm smoother than any mutant alive! I'm the ragingest Cajun ever to stride, step or sail out of the Louisiana bayous! I'M REMY LEBEAU! YEEEHHHAAAAAA!"

"Ohhh," Magneto moaned as he was eventually washed up and left in Remy's wake. "Ooo, look at all the singing colors," he said in a funny voice before passing out.

**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution, any of the tall tales mentioned or the "Johnny Appleseed"song.**


End file.
